


to all of the men who have stood without fear

by romans



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romans/pseuds/romans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hartwin vampire AU where Harry, instead of recruiting a young man into the service, has a taste for rent boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to all of the men who have stood without fear

The boy slides into his car easily, flashes a white grin at him, and says, "Your place or mine?" 

The question is rhetorical, Harry knows, and the answer is _neither_ \- anonymous hotel rooms are best for all concerned- but he wouldn't mind seeing the boy's lithe limbs and golden hair spread out over the silk sheets on his bed at home. He watches as the boy swallows, his adam's apple bobbing in his neck, and then he drags his gaze back to the road. 

God help him, it's only an occasional sin, a break from the daily grind of blood and guts and deception, but he might make a real occasion of this one. 

"Seriously, mate," the boy says, glancing away from the window, "where do you wanna go?" 

"What would you say," Harry says, flexing his fingers on the wheel, "if we went to my place?" 

"You gonna pay more?" the boy says. He's coiled now, taut with caution. 

"Of course," Harry says, "and no funny business. But I would want you for the whole night." 

The boy sucks on his lip, considering, and Harry stops for a red light. The boy could leave now, and he wouldn't pursue it any further. They both know it. 

The boy leans his head against the window and frowns thoughtfully at Harry, and then the smile comes back. 

Green light, then. 

+

" _Nice_ ," the boy says, when he sees Harry's bedroom. 

"Thank you," Harry says, reflexively. "What shall I call you?" he adds, realizing belatedly that the boy hasn't given him a name yet. 

"Eggsy," the boy says, and it's certainly not what Harry expected, but it will do. Their acquaintance should be short, after all. He runs his tongue over his teeth, watches Eggsy bounce experimentally on the bed. The irrepressible grin comes back, crinkling Eggsy's eyes and making him look disconcertingly young. Harry shucks his jacket and hangs it carefully in the closet, and Eggsy follows his lead, wriggling out of his sweatshirt and undershirt to reveal a pale, sculpted chest and a slender waist. Eggsy falls back onto his elbows, putting himself on display.

"So," Eggsy says as Harry approaches the bed, untucking his shirt, "do you do this often?" 

"Why?" Harry asks, starting on his shirt buttons, "are you my legal counsel?" 

"Oh, no sir," Eggsy says, sitting upright with an effortless display of strength that frankly makes Harry go a little weak at the knees. He's always appreciated athleticism. 

"You paid for full service," Eggsy adds, chidingly, as he drops to his knees. He hooks a finger in the waist of Harry's trousers and pulls him forward. "Let me deal with those." 

He'll probably ruin the line of the trousers. But Harry goes. 

+

Afterwards, laying tangled together in a sweaty heap on Harry's silk sheets, Harry comes out of a doze to find Eggsy staring at him intently. 

"This is normally when I'd slip out," Eggsy says, and Harry can't help feeling a little besotted with the soft drawl of his voice, the burr of his vowels, and the talented, smiling mouth that shapes them. 

"But you've got me all night," Eggsy says. "Up for another round? Or-" he shrugs- "we could watch telly, if you want. Anything." He has, Harry notes, dimples. His eyes are bright in the semi-dark of the bedroom. Under the covers, he runs a cool hand down Harry's side, slides along his thigh. 

"Or-" he says, and he rolls onto his side to face Harry. His fingers close around Harry's cock, teasing gently. He smells sweet, even after hours of tussling in bed, which is just unfair. 

"I honestly don't know if I can," Harry says, and the fingers become a little more insistent. 

"Let's try, eh?" Eggsy says. "I like you, Mr. DeVere. Let's try." 

This last is delivered into the skin at the base of Harry's chin, and followed up by a nip at his earlobe. Eggsy suckles gently at his neck, running his hand up and down Harry's cock, and Harry's eyes roll back into his head, just a little. 

"I shouldn't be doing this," Eggsy says, "but I do like you," and he presses his lips to Harry's neck, worries the skin between his teeth. His hand tightens under the covers, and a wave of pleasure rushes over Harry's body. He groans, tilting his neck to the side so that Eggsy can reach it.

"Mhm-" Eggsy says, and the pressure at Harry's neck increases. He's going to have a hell of a hickey in the morning, but, God, it'll be worth it. 

"Normally I just love 'em and leave 'em," Eggsy says, pulling away, and Harry is feeling quite _strange_ now, and there's something- something out of place-

"But I can't let you go," Eggsy says, going back to Harry's neck. Harry writhes under his attentions, reaches up to grasp his hair. His hand slides in something slick on the sheets, something he knows intimately- 

His hand is covered in blood when he lifts it up, blue-black in the dark of the bedroom. 

"What-- are--" He drops his hand to Eggsy's head, intending to pull him back, but it falls lifelessly on to the mattress instead. 

Blood loss. It's fucking asphyxiation brought on by blood loss. 

"What--" his head is reeling. Eggsy looks up from his neck, and his lips are smeared with blood. 

"Shhhh-" he says, bending to press a bloody kiss to Harry's lips. "I'm not going to kill you. It'll be all right. Look- drink this-" and something warm is being pressed to Harry's mouth, fingers are prying his lips open. Something salty and viscous dribbles into his mouth. Harry makes a muffled sound of disgust, but Eggsy doesn't budge. 

"You'll feel better when you wake up," Eggsy says. 

It's the most ridiculous thing Harry has heard in his life, he thinks, before he slips into unconsciousness. 

+

He does wake up. 

When he wakes up, the bed has been stripped and remade, and there's a bandage wrapped around his neck. Eggsy is sitting cross-legged beside him, reading _The Sun_ , wearing one of his sweaters. The curtains have all been drawn. 

"What did you do?" Harry asks. 

"Good morning," Eggsy says, "sorry to spring this on you, like, but I sort of... got attached to you last night." 

"What did you do?" Harry repeats. Eggsy smiles at him and puts the paper down. 

"Have you ever heard of vampires?" Eggsy asks, and Harry goggles at him. He's picked up a complete lunatic. "That's me. And you. Normally I use blokes like you for food, love 'em and leave 'em, right? But you're different." 

Harry blinks at him. 

"You're not a vampire, Eggsy," he says, "and you need to get the fuck out of my house." He has a gun in his nightstand. If he can just get to it before the boy notices-

"Gun's where you left it," Eggsy says, going back to _The Sun_. "It won't do you any good, but it's there if it makes you feel better." 

"It might," Harry says, trying to sit up. It really would. He's yet to meet a human who didn't go down and stay down after a double tap. 

"Knock yourself out, mate," Eggsy says. "But really-" he turns back to face Harry. "You may as well get used to it. Look-" he bares his teeth at Harry, and there are two honest-to-God fangs, real as anything. 

"And here," Eggsy says, holding his hand out. Harry takes it, cautiously, and Eggsy presses it to his chest. There's no heartbeat. 

"And look-" Eggsy presses Harry's hand to his own chest. 

No _heartbeat_. 

"What did you give me?" A hallucinogen of some sort, it must be. 

"Nuthin'," Eggsy says. He drops Harry's hand. "It's the real deal, mate. I was born in 780 A.D. You know, the old days. My real name was Ecgbert, yeah? But it makes me sound like a twat nowadays. Take it or leave it." 

"You're fucking insane," Harry says. He scrambles out of bed on legs that are made of lead, lunges for the drapes, and rips them open. Sunlight floods the room and, suddenly, every nerve ending in his body feels as if it's been set ablaze, and his head explodes with pain. 

"Shouldn't'a done that," Eggsy says, stepping over Harry to shut the blinds. He's steaming slightly- or smoking- when he turns to look down at Harry. 

"It was sort of spur-of-the-moment, yeah?" he says. "Sorry to have sprung this on you." 

Harry staggers upright, leaning heavily on Eggsy's smooth shoulder, and lets the boy tuck him into bed. 

No heartbeat. Sensitivity to sunlight. No bloody _heartbeat_. Harry stares at Eggsy, at his bright, bright blue eyes, and helplessly considers the fact that Eggsy might be telling the truth. 

"Sleep," Eggsy says. "You'll feel better when you wake up."


End file.
